Title: Hood, Chapter Thirteen
Author: Mami
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All characters you recognize from TFATF are property of Universal Pictures.
Archive: ask first.
Feedback: Hellified yeah.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
"What about this?"
Letty turned to face Sabrina, who held up a shiny lime green pleather thong and bra set, rhinestones on the nipples. She scoffed. "For you or me?"
"For you. I look like a size two to you?"
"Even if I did buy my underwear for $3.96 at Walmart, which I don't, I wouldn't waste the money on that."
"Come on," Sabrina grinned. "It's so tasteful and lovely."
"It is. It's beautiful. It's just I ain' got a sex life."
Sabrina hung up the set and raised her eyebrows. "Since when?"
"Since I kicked that cop."
"Are you shittin' me? That was over a month ago."
"Trust me, I know."
"You haven't @#%$ since you kicked that cop?" Sabrina asked incredulously. "Girl, how are you still breathin'?"
Letty shook her head, rifling through the racks. "Just barely."
"Well, what's his damn problem?"
"He's pissed. He doesn't even talk to me anymore."
"You sit up in that shop all day in that heat and dirt and work your asses off and don't say a word?"
Letty sighed and pressed her lips together, not meeting Brina's gaze. "Yep."
"That is a damn shame."
"I hear that. My chocha's bout to heal over and disappear from existence, esa."
"What about at the parties? No play there either?"
"Pshh, are you kidding me? He hates me, Sabrina. He doesn't even look at me if he doesn't have to, and when he does talk to me, he's bitchin'."
"I'ma beat his ass. His holdin'-out, no-dick-usin', mopin-around-bastard ass."
"Down, girl."
"Well he is a mopin' bastard. He's always sittin' around all sad and depressed. Get that @#%$ on Prozac or valium or lithium or some @#%$. Put a smile on his face."
Letty cleared her throat and stood with a package of wifebeaters in her hands, running her thumb back and forth across the slightly-raised price tag. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I used to know how to put a smile on his face."
"Girl, please." Sabrina must have sensed Letty's distress, because she threw an arm around her shoulders, giving her a gentle squeeze. "His happiness is NOT your responsibility. The cars, the parties, the shop, the store...Mia, Leon, Vince and Jesse...His Wednesday night gig...The man is just stressed. He needs to lighten up. He's only twenty-three years old, for God's sake. He takes too damn much on himself. He's gonna come down with ulcers or kidney stones or narcilepsy or some @#%$ if he doesn't slow down. Not your fault, Mama." Brina kissed Letty's forehead and tousled her hair. "Not your fault."
"Susana says I need to take a more active approach." Letty moved toward the men's underwear, package of tanks under her arm. "She says I don't pay enough attention to him. But what am I supposed to do? I feel like an annoying @#%$ puppy biting at his ankles. And most of the time when I try to give him some or do some @#%$ for him, I get treated like one. He's just like, 'Not now,' or gives me that look. You know the one."
Letty mimicked him, showing Sabrina the brow-furrowed, disapproving look of reprimand. "Like, 'Not now, Let.' Like, 'That's the last thing on my mind.' It's @#%$ humiliating, man. But Susana says you're supposed to just absorb that and let 'em do their thing. Offer it all the time and just let 'em take it when they want it."
"Look." Sabrina raised her eyebrows. "Susana obviously does not know her na-na from a hole in the ground. Her man treats her like dog @#%$, all right? What did I tell you about that girl? Makes my nerves bad. You are NOT to be goin' around throwing yourself at Dom like some hungry two-dollar hooker. Respect yourself. Stop looking at it like it's your problem. I ain' gonna sugarcoat it; Dom's got issues. He is not always the nicest homie to hang wid."
"Yeah, I know."
"And it seems like he can't ever just...BE with you. He's always either got you flyin' or fallin'. Never anywhere in between."
Let sucked her lower lip into her mouth and let it drag out between her teeth, eyes flat and dark. "I know."
"So. Now, here you are. Ain' been laid in a month. Please tell me you are indulging in some butter pecan self-exploration."
Letty cracked up. "Excuse me?"
"Chick, you heard me. There is no need to suffer. Go ahead and break your fingers off in there if it makes you feel better."
Letty was laughing and could not stop, a pair of black silk boxers in one hand and a pack of FOTL wifebeaters in the other, in the middle of Wal-Mart, and all she could say was, "Sabrina."
"I am not playin' with you! If I didn't have any kind of sex for a month, I would be in PAIN."
"Your LOUD ASS. SHUT UP!" Letty threw the boxers at Sabrina and shoved the shopping cart into her.
"Look at you, all violent and blushing. Smack into me again and see if I don't throw your scrawny ass in the basket and give it a runnin' start and leggo."
Letty had a mental image of herself careening out of control into the Disney display near the registers, @#%$ flying everywhere, and she was absolutely inconsolable, laughing so hard she had to lean on the basket for support. When she finally got a hold of herself, she let out a little high-pitched sigh of defeat and hung there, shaking her head at Sabrina. "I swear."
"You swear what? You know what? Swear to me that you will take care of your poor deprived self if Dominic don' snap outta that funk by the end of this week."
"I've never done that before and I don't plan to start doin' it now, Brina."
"Fine," Sabrina shrugged. "Then suffer."
"I plan to."
"Stupid."
"Maybe." Letty turned the cart around and headed for the candy. "I want Lemonheads."
When Sabrina and Letty reached the crib, there were cars lining the street, the driveway packed, and the house was jumping. Letty fixed her lipstick in the mirror and puckered up to Sabrina, who laughed.
"Come on, crackhead."
Letty sighed. She didn't want to get out of the car and head into the party. She didn't want to see Dominic flirting and dancing. She didn't want to see the look on his face, that dark boredom, that apathy. She didn't want to have to play defense all night to keep all those loose bitches in tight jeans off Dom's dick. And she didn't want to have to look at him. He would be all pimped out and she knew it. He would be beautiful. And she wouldn't be able to touch him. It would be horrible.
But she didn't really have a choice. This was her world and he was her man and she couldn't deal without him. And these parties were part of being Dom's girl. She got out of the car, grabbing her shopping bags, and looked back at Sabrina.
"Let's get this over with."
Sabrina's look was pointed, but she said nothing. They stepped into the living room, shutting the door behind them, and surveyed the wreckage. Drunk girls everywhere, draped over the laps of hard vatos. Damn near Dom's whole crew had come to get drunk that night, and Letty felt suddenly very tired. Dominic swaggered out of the kitchen in all his glory, wearing white Adidas tearaways, white Superstars, white wifebeater, white beanie. Gold chain around his neck, stud in his ear. Letty felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. His tan was so dark that his teeth and clothes seemed luminescent, and she could tell from his heavy lids and the relaxed, easy way he walked that he was high. She waited to be acknowledged as he looked at her with glum black eyes. But she got nothing. No smile. No nod. Just a brief raise of his eyebrows beneath the lip of the beanie, and he continued right past them.
"@#%$ him, Letty," Sabrina said. "I'm gonna go and see to Vince and then let's you and me have some fun."
Letty nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat and watching Dominic walk away, those broad shoulders gleaming with a fine veil of perspiration, the muscles in his back flexing and shapeshifting, and his ass...She could feel it, sweat-drenched and pumping beneath her fingertips as he thrust into her, could feel the thick, slick drag of him in and out of her, and she had to restrain herself from dropping her Walmart bags, running across the living room, tackling him, and raping him.
Jesus, she thought, shaking her head to clear it, then muttered, "Must be in fuckin' heat or something." She climbed the stairs slowly and put the things she'd bought away, closing and locking the bedroom door behind her. She wanted to be alone. Couldn't do the party thing tonight. She sat on Dom's bed, chewing her lower lip and rubbing at a scratch in her leather pants. She'd gone to court for kicking the cop and had narrowly evaded being sent to a juvenile detention center, sentenced to community service and state mandated counseling instead. Both things would start next week Monday. Her birthday was tomorrow and Dominic was disgusted with her. She wondered if he even @#%$ knew her birthday was in less than 12 hours. Wondered if she'd spend the whole day on the other side of his cold shoulder, working her ass off in the shop beside him without so much as a hug or a smile from him.
She felt like crying but didn't because it was @#%$ useless and wouldn't help anything, anyway. She considered getting drunk or high but didn't because it was also @#%$ useless and wouldn't help anything. She pulled her long black hair into a ponytail and blinked at herself in the mirror across the room, bending to unlace her chunky boots.
With an exasperated sigh, she flopped onto her back on the bed, closing her eyes, and she held the image of Dominic in her mind's eye, pictured him coming up the stairs in that beautiful white outfit, appearing in the bedroom doorway with a cocky smile on his face and a hand over his crotch, that half-playful, half-deadly 'I want some ass' look on his face. She could see him crossing the room to her and hooking his fingertips under the waist of her pants and yanking them down and off of her, shoving his tearaways over his hips and rolling a Magnum down over that giant @#%$ of his...
Letty growled in supreme sexual frustration as she felt the telltale trickle between her thighs, her thong sticky and hot, and she knew she was only torturing herself. But she couldn't stop the images from coming, and her need and deprivation made the fantasy very real to her. In and out, she could feel him @#%$ her, not fast and not slow, his shoulders looming above her, his upper lip glistening with sweat, gold chain swinging as he thrust into her, her hands clamped on his forearms, hot and wet and full between her legs, belly tight and growing tighter until he finally pushed her over the edge...
Letty opened her eyes, cutting off the pornographic slideshow she was tormenting herself with. She wanted to @#%$ so bad she was shaking, her body humming and ready to go, and she looked at her hand, licking her lips with a dry tongue. Her clit was throbbing, everything blood-full and aching against her thong and her leather pants. She heard Sabrina's words echoing in her mind,
"...break your fingers off in there..."
She could pretend her hand was Dom's, right? Pretend he was lying next to her and stroking her and she could come and relief would be hers. The door was locked. No one would walk in on her. Everyone was partying, and she could just get it over with, wash her hands, and go downstairs. No one would ever know. She'd never tell anyone. Just this once, she could.
She dropped her hands to the fly of her pants and dragged the zipper down, springing the button open, and then she froze, her hand splayed on her belly. She was breathing hard, eyes closed, trying to psych herself up for this, talk herself through it. She moved her hand a little lower, knowing she would feel a hundred percent better if she could just stop the @#%$ pounding in her crotch. And suddenly Susana's voice presented itself,
"Offer it all the time and give it when he wants it."
She sighed, shakily, and zipped her pants, feeling disgusted with herself for even considering it. How the hell did she expect to get laid if she didn't even offer it? She stood up and looked in the mirror, brushing her hair into long black silk, checking her lipstick and eyeshadow. Everything was dandy, and after a quick cleanup in the bathroom, she headed downstairs to the party.
Dominic slouched on the couch, people all around him, vying for his attention. He was laughing, a throaty, bassy rumble from his belly, and he held a Corona in one hand and a Tequiza in the other. Letty could see the outline of his pretty blown-glass pot pipe in his hip pocket. She strode into the living room, shoudlers back, arms folded over her chest, and he looked up at her but didn't even pause in his conversation, didn't even break up his sentence.
He was talking to Isaiah, a new guy in his crew, and Dom was doing his usual PR work, getting to know the guy, swapping stories of tax evasion and successful police escape. Isaiah's girlfriend was a little younger than Letty, and she sat on the coffee table next to her man, twirling long, straight dark hair around her index finger. Letty nodded at the girl, and the nod was returned, and then Letty refocused. She nudged Dominic's knee with her own. He glanced at her again but didn't stop talking. She nudged him again.
"Hey."
Dom lifted one finger off his beer bottle to silence her, and she narrowly resisted the urge to growl at him. He just kept right on with his story.
"Dom. Shut the @#%$ up for a minute."
His jaw hardened and he stopped midsentence, making genuine eye contact with her now. His eyes were cold and his voice was angry and he addressed her with only one word.
"What."
Letty's confidence flagged, but she wasn't about to pull back now. She had his attention. "Come upstairs with me."
Dom's expression remained unchanged. "For what."
She said nothing, holding his gaze and conveying her message with her eyes.
He smiled then, smiled up at her from behind hooded lids, cockily. "Letty, I'm talkin'. Maybe later."
"No. Now."
His smile fell. "No. Later." And he picked up the conversation where he'd left off, ignoring her completely. She stood there for a moment, face hot, eyes stinging, and then turned to walk away. He gave her ass a little squeeze and repeated, "Later."
All right. So she would just have to wait.
And wait.
And wait.
She had a beer, a brandy old-fashioned, a game of poker, and a bootyshake with Sabrina, and the entire time, she had a one-track mind. She just wanted to get laid, so bad. But he'd said later. So she had to wait.
And wait.
And wait.
At three a.m., Vince and Brina went upstairs, and Letty sighed, sitting at the dining room table with another hand at poker. She was exhausted, eyelids threatening to drop closed, and when she felt her forehead hit the table, she knew she'd had enough. She looked at the clock and saw what time it was, realizing that it was now Saturday. Happy birthday to me.
Letty stood in pigtails and a yellow gingham dress, lacy white socks and patent leather shoes that went clack-clack-clack on the pavement when she walked. She was missing her front teeth and smiling so broadly her cheeks ached. Her family was all around her, a big beautiful cake before her, and her mother wearing a pale yellow sundress so they matched. The candles were pink and their heat made her face warm, and when everyone stopped singing, she made a wish and blew eight of them out, only one remaining lit. Luz bent at the waist and blew that one for her, and then gave Letty a hug, and everyone clapped. The room became a flurry of plate-passing and Spanish jabbering, and Letty flicked in and out of the space left by her missing teeth. Her mother hugged her around the back and kissed her cheek noisily.
"You're getting so big. You'll be a real lady soon."
Let snapped out of it.
"I'm done guys," she said, dejected and weary, and she walked through the living room to the stairway. Dom was still talking to Isaiah, and his chick looked like Letty felt. She climbed the stairs and just barely made it into bed before her body gave up on her and she fell hard into a deep, black sleep.
When she woke, Dom was already gone, and she looked at the clock. @#%$. 10 a.m. Why the hell hadn't he woken her to go to work? She took the world's quickest shower, did her four-point inspection, and threw on underwear, a pair of black leather pants, and a grease-stained wifebeater. Shoving her feet into socks and boots, she tore a comb through her hair and bombed down the stairs. Mia was on cleanup duty, as usual, and Letty felt bad, but she had to get to the shop.
"Mia. Dom left?"
Mia nodded. "Yeah, he did. I can give you a ride."
"Cool." Letty braided her hair down her back and grabbed a rubber band out of the junk drawer as she followed Mia outside to her little turquoise Integra. She climbed into the passenger's seat and said nothing, silent for the short drive to the DT shop. Thanking Mia, she jumped out of the car and hauled ass into the sweaty heat of the shop. There were some beautiful cars there today, and she knew that Dominic's clientele was ever-increasing. She grabbed the clipboard and read through the tasks to be accomplished that day. Yellow Spyder to be dropped an inch and a half. Decals on dark purple 240SX. Suspension...
Paint...Rims...Engine swap... She couldn't help but smile. She loved this job. Sometimes she was so sure she wanted nothing more out of life than to be a mechanic in this shop.
"Dom?" she called, heading for the beautiful 240SX. She ran her fingertips over its hood. It was @#%$ flawless, new paintjob, beautiful curves. Pretty skirt. It had a new front end but from looking at its ass end she thought it was originally probably a '94. She popped the hood and let her breath hiss out between her teeth. "Ssssilvia." She got a little charge, looking at the car's sparkling guts, felt her clit come alive and licked her lips, closing its lid again and sighing. She patted its hood. "Beautiful girl." She looked around and saw the decals for it, still in their packaging, smelling like brand new. "Dominic?"
"Right here," came the baritone reply, and she jumped, her heart kickstarting on a frenetic rhythm. Jesus, he was right behind her!
Letty turned to face him. "These all go on the Silvia?" Dom nodded and took them out of her hands, tossing them to the ground. She looked at them. "What, you want me to do something else?"
"Yeah," he said. "I want you to do something else."
"What?"
He took a step toward her, and knelt at her feet, undoing the laces of her boots. She watched, incredulous, feeling a tingle shoot through her body. She put her hands behind her on the hood of the 240SX for support.
"Step out," he murmured, and she lifted one foot, then the other, and he eased her boots off of them, tossing them aside. He peeled off her socks and disposed of them, bringing his hands to the fly of her pants, and she began to tremble, breathing shakily in and out through her nose, her top lip pinned between her teeth. The top of Dom's jumpsuit was down around his waist, so he wore only the wifebeater. Letty watched his muscles move as he dragged the pants down and off of her, along with her black thong.
Oh, God, yes...yes...yes....
She ached for him already, a powerful pulse between her legs, her nipples filling with blood and standing out proud through her bra and wifebeater.
"Step out," he repeated, when he got her pants to her ankles. She obeyed him, leaning back, and the car's hood was cold and smooth against her bare ass. Dominic stood up and pulled his tank off simultaneously with a leonine grace, discarding it without ceremony and reaching for the hem of her shirt. She drank in the sight of him shirtless hungrily, needing so badly to feel the rock of his chest against the feminine pliability of her breasts, and when he freed them to himself, she let her head fall back, chin going skyward. He cradled her ribcage in his hands for support and suckled gently at first one of her nipples, then the other, leaving them wet and glistening and hypersensitive. Her skin sang under his touch as he slipped his hands down to her hips and hoisted her effortlessly up onto the hood of the car, the cool metal a delicious relief against the searing throb of the begging flesh between her legs. "Lie back," he whispered. "All the way back."
Letty complied, bonelessly, reclining all the way onto her back and closing her eyes; they were too heavy to keep open any longer. She arched her back as he dragged his fingertips down over her thighs, heartbeat drumming mercilessly in her chest, at the base of her throat, in her ears, at the apex of her thighs...Boom. Boom. Boom.
"Open for me," he said, his voice so thick and laden with lust that she could scarcely understand him. She parted her legs to him and he took her waist in hand, pulling her ass to the very edge of the hood, and he ran his hands down her thighs to her knees, hitching them up to his hips. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him so close that his knuckles bumped against her outer lips and her protruding, desperate hood as he worked with the fastenings of his own pants, his boxers, the condom, and her body screamed at each accidental touch. Her fingers splayed on the hood of the gorgeous car, seeking something, anything, to clutch, and she felt the insistent pressure of his head at the wanting slickness of her opening.
"Oh...God. Please." She begged without second thought and without shame, and when he pressed forth into her, one hand on her hip and one fisted beside her to support himself, she loosed a choked sob and clenched her legs around him, her entire body a song of definite celebration. Finally...Oh, Christ, finally.
He was slow with her, tender, and it was torment, the easy rocking of his hips, the whispered oaths against her breasts as his lips pinched and tickled her skin, the rhythm that remained steady, deliberate, loving. He made love to her, and she could not keep quiet, squeezing him into her on each thrust, rocking into him, arching her spine and presenting her breasts in constant offering. She came, a sublime, silvery deluge of sensation rolling over her, and she dug her fingernails into his shoulders while she did. He kept on, though, urging aftershocks out of her, coaxing another slow fire to start in her belly, and he breathed in hot blasts against her wet nipples while she came for the second time, her body still weak and exhausted from the first climax. She felt numb and trembly, but completely safe and accounted for, there beneath him. The contrast in sensations of the metal beneath her and his skin atop her was delicious, and still he didn't stop. He straightened his spine as the contractions from her second orgasm faded, taking both of her hips in his hands, and she blinked up at him with impossibly heavy lids. He was so @#%$ beautiful, standing there, holding onto her, thrusting and withdrawing on the same slow, controlled rhythm he'd begun with, and she gave herself over, albeit incredulously, as she felt the flutters begin in her belly for a third time.
He came with her that time, folding down on top of her and burying his face in her throat, grunting and bucking out his release, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, tightening her legs around his waist, holding him as he collapsed, his weight crushing and comforting against her, his hands in her hair against her scalp.
"I love you, Letty," he panted, his chest still heaving with gasps from his efforts.
She pressed her lips to his cheek and held them there, tears streaming down her cheeks, onto her throat and his shoulder. She couldn't find her voice to answer him, but she knew her body had done the talking. She knew he could never doubt her love for him.
When both their bodies had cooled and Dominic was small and harmless inside of her, he disentangled himself from her and stood up, and she propped up on her elbows, watching as he got rid of the condom and got dressed again.
"So," she said, clearing her throat.
"So what?" he smiled at her, easy, relaxed. He was so beautiful when he was this way.
"So whose car have we just defiled?"
He laughed, a raspy, hoarse laugh booming through the shop. She raised an eyebrow and waited for his answer. He sobered, then, and came over to her as he tugged on his wifebeater. He leaned in and kissed her lips.
"Yours."
Her blood ran cold and her heart contracted, and she was sure she'd misunderstood him.
"What?!"
"It's yours, Letty. Happy birthday."
"Oh, my God, are you serious?" She jumped down off the hood and stood looking at it, buck naked. "Are you SERIOUS?"
Dominic wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her back to his front and kissing her shoulder.
"Absolutely. Happy birthday, mami."
"Ohhhh my God." Letty spun in his arms and wrapped her arms and legs around him again, covering his face and head and ears and neck with kisses. "Thank you so much." He grinned and she could feel him watching her as she got down off of him and covered her mouth with her hands, making a slow circle of the car, and again the phrase ran through her mind, joyously and sincerely this time,
Happy birthday to me.
Author: Mami
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All characters you recognize from TFATF are property of Universal Pictures.
Archive: ask first.
Feedback: Hellified yeah.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
"What about this?"
Letty turned to face Sabrina, who held up a shiny lime green pleather thong and bra set, rhinestones on the nipples. She scoffed. "For you or me?"
"For you. I look like a size two to you?"
"Even if I did buy my underwear for $3.96 at Walmart, which I don't, I wouldn't waste the money on that."
"Come on," Sabrina grinned. "It's so tasteful and lovely."
"It is. It's beautiful. It's just I ain' got a sex life."
Sabrina hung up the set and raised her eyebrows. "Since when?"
"Since I kicked that cop."
"Are you shittin' me? That was over a month ago."
"Trust me, I know."
"You haven't @#%$ since you kicked that cop?" Sabrina asked incredulously. "Girl, how are you still breathin'?"
Letty shook her head, rifling through the racks. "Just barely."
"Well, what's his damn problem?"
"He's pissed. He doesn't even talk to me anymore."
"You sit up in that shop all day in that heat and dirt and work your asses off and don't say a word?"
Letty sighed and pressed her lips together, not meeting Brina's gaze. "Yep."
"That is a damn shame."
"I hear that. My chocha's bout to heal over and disappear from existence, esa."
"What about at the parties? No play there either?"
"Pshh, are you kidding me? He hates me, Sabrina. He doesn't even look at me if he doesn't have to, and when he does talk to me, he's bitchin'."
"I'ma beat his ass. His holdin'-out, no-dick-usin', mopin-around-bastard ass."
"Down, girl."
"Well he is a mopin' bastard. He's always sittin' around all sad and depressed. Get that @#%$ on Prozac or valium or lithium or some @#%$. Put a smile on his face."
Letty cleared her throat and stood with a package of wifebeaters in her hands, running her thumb back and forth across the slightly-raised price tag. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I used to know how to put a smile on his face."
"Girl, please." Sabrina must have sensed Letty's distress, because she threw an arm around her shoulders, giving her a gentle squeeze. "His happiness is NOT your responsibility. The cars, the parties, the shop, the store...Mia, Leon, Vince and Jesse...His Wednesday night gig...The man is just stressed. He needs to lighten up. He's only twenty-three years old, for God's sake. He takes too damn much on himself. He's gonna come down with ulcers or kidney stones or narcilepsy or some @#%$ if he doesn't slow down. Not your fault, Mama." Brina kissed Letty's forehead and tousled her hair. "Not your fault."
"Susana says I need to take a more active approach." Letty moved toward the men's underwear, package of tanks under her arm. "She says I don't pay enough attention to him. But what am I supposed to do? I feel like an annoying @#%$ puppy biting at his ankles. And most of the time when I try to give him some or do some @#%$ for him, I get treated like one. He's just like, 'Not now,' or gives me that look. You know the one."
Letty mimicked him, showing Sabrina the brow-furrowed, disapproving look of reprimand. "Like, 'Not now, Let.' Like, 'That's the last thing on my mind.' It's @#%$ humiliating, man. But Susana says you're supposed to just absorb that and let 'em do their thing. Offer it all the time and just let 'em take it when they want it."
"Look." Sabrina raised her eyebrows. "Susana obviously does not know her na-na from a hole in the ground. Her man treats her like dog @#%$, all right? What did I tell you about that girl? Makes my nerves bad. You are NOT to be goin' around throwing yourself at Dom like some hungry two-dollar hooker. Respect yourself. Stop looking at it like it's your problem. I ain' gonna sugarcoat it; Dom's got issues. He is not always the nicest homie to hang wid."
"Yeah, I know."
"And it seems like he can't ever just...BE with you. He's always either got you flyin' or fallin'. Never anywhere in between."
Let sucked her lower lip into her mouth and let it drag out between her teeth, eyes flat and dark. "I know."
"So. Now, here you are. Ain' been laid in a month. Please tell me you are indulging in some butter pecan self-exploration."
Letty cracked up. "Excuse me?"
"Chick, you heard me. There is no need to suffer. Go ahead and break your fingers off in there if it makes you feel better."
Letty was laughing and could not stop, a pair of black silk boxers in one hand and a pack of FOTL wifebeaters in the other, in the middle of Wal-Mart, and all she could say was, "Sabrina."
"I am not playin' with you! If I didn't have any kind of sex for a month, I would be in PAIN."
"Your LOUD ASS. SHUT UP!" Letty threw the boxers at Sabrina and shoved the shopping cart into her.
"Look at you, all violent and blushing. Smack into me again and see if I don't throw your scrawny ass in the basket and give it a runnin' start and leggo."
Letty had a mental image of herself careening out of control into the Disney display near the registers, @#%$ flying everywhere, and she was absolutely inconsolable, laughing so hard she had to lean on the basket for support. When she finally got a hold of herself, she let out a little high-pitched sigh of defeat and hung there, shaking her head at Sabrina. "I swear."
"You swear what? You know what? Swear to me that you will take care of your poor deprived self if Dominic don' snap outta that funk by the end of this week."
"I've never done that before and I don't plan to start doin' it now, Brina."
"Fine," Sabrina shrugged. "Then suffer."
"I plan to."
"Stupid."
"Maybe." Letty turned the cart around and headed for the candy. "I want Lemonheads."
When Sabrina and Letty reached the crib, there were cars lining the street, the driveway packed, and the house was jumping. Letty fixed her lipstick in the mirror and puckered up to Sabrina, who laughed.
"Come on, crackhead."
Letty sighed. She didn't want to get out of the car and head into the party. She didn't want to see Dominic flirting and dancing. She didn't want to see the look on his face, that dark boredom, that apathy. She didn't want to have to play defense all night to keep all those loose bitches in tight jeans off Dom's dick. And she didn't want to have to look at him. He would be all pimped out and she knew it. He would be beautiful. And she wouldn't be able to touch him. It would be horrible.
But she didn't really have a choice. This was her world and he was her man and she couldn't deal without him. And these parties were part of being Dom's girl. She got out of the car, grabbing her shopping bags, and looked back at Sabrina.
"Let's get this over with."
Sabrina's look was pointed, but she said nothing. They stepped into the living room, shutting the door behind them, and surveyed the wreckage. Drunk girls everywhere, draped over the laps of hard vatos. Damn near Dom's whole crew had come to get drunk that night, and Letty felt suddenly very tired. Dominic swaggered out of the kitchen in all his glory, wearing white Adidas tearaways, white Superstars, white wifebeater, white beanie. Gold chain around his neck, stud in his ear. Letty felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. His tan was so dark that his teeth and clothes seemed luminescent, and she could tell from his heavy lids and the relaxed, easy way he walked that he was high. She waited to be acknowledged as he looked at her with glum black eyes. But she got nothing. No smile. No nod. Just a brief raise of his eyebrows beneath the lip of the beanie, and he continued right past them.
"@#%$ him, Letty," Sabrina said. "I'm gonna go and see to Vince and then let's you and me have some fun."
Letty nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat and watching Dominic walk away, those broad shoulders gleaming with a fine veil of perspiration, the muscles in his back flexing and shapeshifting, and his ass...She could feel it, sweat-drenched and pumping beneath her fingertips as he thrust into her, could feel the thick, slick drag of him in and out of her, and she had to restrain herself from dropping her Walmart bags, running across the living room, tackling him, and raping him.
Jesus, she thought, shaking her head to clear it, then muttered, "Must be in fuckin' heat or something." She climbed the stairs slowly and put the things she'd bought away, closing and locking the bedroom door behind her. She wanted to be alone. Couldn't do the party thing tonight. She sat on Dom's bed, chewing her lower lip and rubbing at a scratch in her leather pants. She'd gone to court for kicking the cop and had narrowly evaded being sent to a juvenile detention center, sentenced to community service and state mandated counseling instead. Both things would start next week Monday. Her birthday was tomorrow and Dominic was disgusted with her. She wondered if he even @#%$ knew her birthday was in less than 12 hours. Wondered if she'd spend the whole day on the other side of his cold shoulder, working her ass off in the shop beside him without so much as a hug or a smile from him.
She felt like crying but didn't because it was @#%$ useless and wouldn't help anything, anyway. She considered getting drunk or high but didn't because it was also @#%$ useless and wouldn't help anything. She pulled her long black hair into a ponytail and blinked at herself in the mirror across the room, bending to unlace her chunky boots.
With an exasperated sigh, she flopped onto her back on the bed, closing her eyes, and she held the image of Dominic in her mind's eye, pictured him coming up the stairs in that beautiful white outfit, appearing in the bedroom doorway with a cocky smile on his face and a hand over his crotch, that half-playful, half-deadly 'I want some ass' look on his face. She could see him crossing the room to her and hooking his fingertips under the waist of her pants and yanking them down and off of her, shoving his tearaways over his hips and rolling a Magnum down over that giant @#%$ of his...
Letty growled in supreme sexual frustration as she felt the telltale trickle between her thighs, her thong sticky and hot, and she knew she was only torturing herself. But she couldn't stop the images from coming, and her need and deprivation made the fantasy very real to her. In and out, she could feel him @#%$ her, not fast and not slow, his shoulders looming above her, his upper lip glistening with sweat, gold chain swinging as he thrust into her, her hands clamped on his forearms, hot and wet and full between her legs, belly tight and growing tighter until he finally pushed her over the edge...
Letty opened her eyes, cutting off the pornographic slideshow she was tormenting herself with. She wanted to @#%$ so bad she was shaking, her body humming and ready to go, and she looked at her hand, licking her lips with a dry tongue. Her clit was throbbing, everything blood-full and aching against her thong and her leather pants. She heard Sabrina's words echoing in her mind,
"...break your fingers off in there..."
She could pretend her hand was Dom's, right? Pretend he was lying next to her and stroking her and she could come and relief would be hers. The door was locked. No one would walk in on her. Everyone was partying, and she could just get it over with, wash her hands, and go downstairs. No one would ever know. She'd never tell anyone. Just this once, she could.
She dropped her hands to the fly of her pants and dragged the zipper down, springing the button open, and then she froze, her hand splayed on her belly. She was breathing hard, eyes closed, trying to psych herself up for this, talk herself through it. She moved her hand a little lower, knowing she would feel a hundred percent better if she could just stop the @#%$ pounding in her crotch. And suddenly Susana's voice presented itself,
"Offer it all the time and give it when he wants it."
She sighed, shakily, and zipped her pants, feeling disgusted with herself for even considering it. How the hell did she expect to get laid if she didn't even offer it? She stood up and looked in the mirror, brushing her hair into long black silk, checking her lipstick and eyeshadow. Everything was dandy, and after a quick cleanup in the bathroom, she headed downstairs to the party.
Dominic slouched on the couch, people all around him, vying for his attention. He was laughing, a throaty, bassy rumble from his belly, and he held a Corona in one hand and a Tequiza in the other. Letty could see the outline of his pretty blown-glass pot pipe in his hip pocket. She strode into the living room, shoudlers back, arms folded over her chest, and he looked up at her but didn't even pause in his conversation, didn't even break up his sentence.
He was talking to Isaiah, a new guy in his crew, and Dom was doing his usual PR work, getting to know the guy, swapping stories of tax evasion and successful police escape. Isaiah's girlfriend was a little younger than Letty, and she sat on the coffee table next to her man, twirling long, straight dark hair around her index finger. Letty nodded at the girl, and the nod was returned, and then Letty refocused. She nudged Dominic's knee with her own. He glanced at her again but didn't stop talking. She nudged him again.
"Hey."
Dom lifted one finger off his beer bottle to silence her, and she narrowly resisted the urge to growl at him. He just kept right on with his story.
"Dom. Shut the @#%$ up for a minute."
His jaw hardened and he stopped midsentence, making genuine eye contact with her now. His eyes were cold and his voice was angry and he addressed her with only one word.
"What."
Letty's confidence flagged, but she wasn't about to pull back now. She had his attention. "Come upstairs with me."
Dom's expression remained unchanged. "For what."
She said nothing, holding his gaze and conveying her message with her eyes.
He smiled then, smiled up at her from behind hooded lids, cockily. "Letty, I'm talkin'. Maybe later."
"No. Now."
His smile fell. "No. Later." And he picked up the conversation where he'd left off, ignoring her completely. She stood there for a moment, face hot, eyes stinging, and then turned to walk away. He gave her ass a little squeeze and repeated, "Later."
All right. So she would just have to wait.
And wait.
And wait.
She had a beer, a brandy old-fashioned, a game of poker, and a bootyshake with Sabrina, and the entire time, she had a one-track mind. She just wanted to get laid, so bad. But he'd said later. So she had to wait.
And wait.
And wait.
At three a.m., Vince and Brina went upstairs, and Letty sighed, sitting at the dining room table with another hand at poker. She was exhausted, eyelids threatening to drop closed, and when she felt her forehead hit the table, she knew she'd had enough. She looked at the clock and saw what time it was, realizing that it was now Saturday. Happy birthday to me.
Letty stood in pigtails and a yellow gingham dress, lacy white socks and patent leather shoes that went clack-clack-clack on the pavement when she walked. She was missing her front teeth and smiling so broadly her cheeks ached. Her family was all around her, a big beautiful cake before her, and her mother wearing a pale yellow sundress so they matched. The candles were pink and their heat made her face warm, and when everyone stopped singing, she made a wish and blew eight of them out, only one remaining lit. Luz bent at the waist and blew that one for her, and then gave Letty a hug, and everyone clapped. The room became a flurry of plate-passing and Spanish jabbering, and Letty flicked in and out of the space left by her missing teeth. Her mother hugged her around the back and kissed her cheek noisily.
"You're getting so big. You'll be a real lady soon."
Let snapped out of it.
"I'm done guys," she said, dejected and weary, and she walked through the living room to the stairway. Dom was still talking to Isaiah, and his chick looked like Letty felt. She climbed the stairs and just barely made it into bed before her body gave up on her and she fell hard into a deep, black sleep.
When she woke, Dom was already gone, and she looked at the clock. @#%$. 10 a.m. Why the hell hadn't he woken her to go to work? She took the world's quickest shower, did her four-point inspection, and threw on underwear, a pair of black leather pants, and a grease-stained wifebeater. Shoving her feet into socks and boots, she tore a comb through her hair and bombed down the stairs. Mia was on cleanup duty, as usual, and Letty felt bad, but she had to get to the shop.
"Mia. Dom left?"
Mia nodded. "Yeah, he did. I can give you a ride."
"Cool." Letty braided her hair down her back and grabbed a rubber band out of the junk drawer as she followed Mia outside to her little turquoise Integra. She climbed into the passenger's seat and said nothing, silent for the short drive to the DT shop. Thanking Mia, she jumped out of the car and hauled ass into the sweaty heat of the shop. There were some beautiful cars there today, and she knew that Dominic's clientele was ever-increasing. She grabbed the clipboard and read through the tasks to be accomplished that day. Yellow Spyder to be dropped an inch and a half. Decals on dark purple 240SX. Suspension...
Paint...Rims...Engine swap... She couldn't help but smile. She loved this job. Sometimes she was so sure she wanted nothing more out of life than to be a mechanic in this shop.
"Dom?" she called, heading for the beautiful 240SX. She ran her fingertips over its hood. It was @#%$ flawless, new paintjob, beautiful curves. Pretty skirt. It had a new front end but from looking at its ass end she thought it was originally probably a '94. She popped the hood and let her breath hiss out between her teeth. "Ssssilvia." She got a little charge, looking at the car's sparkling guts, felt her clit come alive and licked her lips, closing its lid again and sighing. She patted its hood. "Beautiful girl." She looked around and saw the decals for it, still in their packaging, smelling like brand new. "Dominic?"
"Right here," came the baritone reply, and she jumped, her heart kickstarting on a frenetic rhythm. Jesus, he was right behind her!
Letty turned to face him. "These all go on the Silvia?" Dom nodded and took them out of her hands, tossing them to the ground. She looked at them. "What, you want me to do something else?"
"Yeah," he said. "I want you to do something else."
"What?"
He took a step toward her, and knelt at her feet, undoing the laces of her boots. She watched, incredulous, feeling a tingle shoot through her body. She put her hands behind her on the hood of the 240SX for support.
"Step out," he murmured, and she lifted one foot, then the other, and he eased her boots off of them, tossing them aside. He peeled off her socks and disposed of them, bringing his hands to the fly of her pants, and she began to tremble, breathing shakily in and out through her nose, her top lip pinned between her teeth. The top of Dom's jumpsuit was down around his waist, so he wore only the wifebeater. Letty watched his muscles move as he dragged the pants down and off of her, along with her black thong.
Oh, God, yes...yes...yes....
She ached for him already, a powerful pulse between her legs, her nipples filling with blood and standing out proud through her bra and wifebeater.
"Step out," he repeated, when he got her pants to her ankles. She obeyed him, leaning back, and the car's hood was cold and smooth against her bare ass. Dominic stood up and pulled his tank off simultaneously with a leonine grace, discarding it without ceremony and reaching for the hem of her shirt. She drank in the sight of him shirtless hungrily, needing so badly to feel the rock of his chest against the feminine pliability of her breasts, and when he freed them to himself, she let her head fall back, chin going skyward. He cradled her ribcage in his hands for support and suckled gently at first one of her nipples, then the other, leaving them wet and glistening and hypersensitive. Her skin sang under his touch as he slipped his hands down to her hips and hoisted her effortlessly up onto the hood of the car, the cool metal a delicious relief against the searing throb of the begging flesh between her legs. "Lie back," he whispered. "All the way back."
Letty complied, bonelessly, reclining all the way onto her back and closing her eyes; they were too heavy to keep open any longer. She arched her back as he dragged his fingertips down over her thighs, heartbeat drumming mercilessly in her chest, at the base of her throat, in her ears, at the apex of her thighs...Boom. Boom. Boom.
"Open for me," he said, his voice so thick and laden with lust that she could scarcely understand him. She parted her legs to him and he took her waist in hand, pulling her ass to the very edge of the hood, and he ran his hands down her thighs to her knees, hitching them up to his hips. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him so close that his knuckles bumped against her outer lips and her protruding, desperate hood as he worked with the fastenings of his own pants, his boxers, the condom, and her body screamed at each accidental touch. Her fingers splayed on the hood of the gorgeous car, seeking something, anything, to clutch, and she felt the insistent pressure of his head at the wanting slickness of her opening.
"Oh...God. Please." She begged without second thought and without shame, and when he pressed forth into her, one hand on her hip and one fisted beside her to support himself, she loosed a choked sob and clenched her legs around him, her entire body a song of definite celebration. Finally...Oh, Christ, finally.
He was slow with her, tender, and it was torment, the easy rocking of his hips, the whispered oaths against her breasts as his lips pinched and tickled her skin, the rhythm that remained steady, deliberate, loving. He made love to her, and she could not keep quiet, squeezing him into her on each thrust, rocking into him, arching her spine and presenting her breasts in constant offering. She came, a sublime, silvery deluge of sensation rolling over her, and she dug her fingernails into his shoulders while she did. He kept on, though, urging aftershocks out of her, coaxing another slow fire to start in her belly, and he breathed in hot blasts against her wet nipples while she came for the second time, her body still weak and exhausted from the first climax. She felt numb and trembly, but completely safe and accounted for, there beneath him. The contrast in sensations of the metal beneath her and his skin atop her was delicious, and still he didn't stop. He straightened his spine as the contractions from her second orgasm faded, taking both of her hips in his hands, and she blinked up at him with impossibly heavy lids. He was so @#%$ beautiful, standing there, holding onto her, thrusting and withdrawing on the same slow, controlled rhythm he'd begun with, and she gave herself over, albeit incredulously, as she felt the flutters begin in her belly for a third time.
He came with her that time, folding down on top of her and burying his face in her throat, grunting and bucking out his release, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, tightening her legs around his waist, holding him as he collapsed, his weight crushing and comforting against her, his hands in her hair against her scalp.
"I love you, Letty," he panted, his chest still heaving with gasps from his efforts.
She pressed her lips to his cheek and held them there, tears streaming down her cheeks, onto her throat and his shoulder. She couldn't find her voice to answer him, but she knew her body had done the talking. She knew he could never doubt her love for him.
When both their bodies had cooled and Dominic was small and harmless inside of her, he disentangled himself from her and stood up, and she propped up on her elbows, watching as he got rid of the condom and got dressed again.
"So," she said, clearing her throat.
"So what?" he smiled at her, easy, relaxed. He was so beautiful when he was this way.
"So whose car have we just defiled?"
He laughed, a raspy, hoarse laugh booming through the shop. She raised an eyebrow and waited for his answer. He sobered, then, and came over to her as he tugged on his wifebeater. He leaned in and kissed her lips.
"Yours."
Her blood ran cold and her heart contracted, and she was sure she'd misunderstood him.
"What?!"
"It's yours, Letty. Happy birthday."
"Oh, my God, are you serious?" She jumped down off the hood and stood looking at it, buck naked. "Are you SERIOUS?"
Dominic wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her back to his front and kissing her shoulder.
"Absolutely. Happy birthday, mami."
"Ohhhh my God." Letty spun in his arms and wrapped her arms and legs around him again, covering his face and head and ears and neck with kisses. "Thank you so much." He grinned and she could feel him watching her as she got down off of him and covered her mouth with her hands, making a slow circle of the car, and again the phrase ran through her mind, joyously and sincerely this time,
Happy birthday to me.
